multi-coloured bulbs.
‘Look at that one!’ I cry at the sight of a full-size Santa on a rooftop, equipped with sleigh and reindeer to boot.
‘Take a photo, then.’
‘Hold on, hold on.’ I wind down the window and hold the camera as steadily as I can so the shot doesn’t blur too much.
‘Pretty specky, hey?’ I assume he means spectacular.
‘I bloody love it!’
‘I told you we could do lights well here.’
‘Say no more on the matter.’ I wave my hand at him dramatically.
‘Speaking of lights, have you seen the view from Mount Lofty yet?’ he asks.
‘Mount Lofty, up the hill from where Michael lives?’
‘Yes. Up the hill from where you live.’
I laugh. ‘Yeah, yeah, okay, where I live. No, I haven’t seen the view from Mount Lofty yet.’
‘Right, then, that’s the next stop. Do you want to drive?’
‘Too bloody right I do.’
‘Now you’re starting to sound like an Aussie.’
It’s nine o’clock by the time we reach Mount Lofty summit. I carefully park the car and we climb out and walk towards the restaurant and gift shop. Ben leads me along the right-hand side of the building and turns back to point down the hill.
‘That’s Piccadilly Valley down there,’ he says. There’s a sign next to him and I skimread it to find that the name Piccadilly ‘probably’ came from the Aboriginal word Piccodla . Piccodla made up the eyebrows of Urebilla, the giant whose body formed the mountain ranges.
‘That’s interesting,’ I say. ‘And there’s me thinking it was named after Piccadilly in London.’
Ben chuckles. ‘It probably was. There’s a sign outside a church in Piccadilly saying a Mrs Emma Young named it after Piccadilly in London back in 1853.’
‘Oh. I think I prefer this explanation.’
‘It’s certainly more romantic. Can you see your house?’
I follow the line of his finger. ‘Which one is it?’
‘Here.’ He puts his arm around me to draw me closer. It’s a perfectly innocent gesture on his part, but it sets my insides on fire. ‘There,’ he says.
‘Oh, yeah,’ I reply, actually not seeing the house at all because my head is buzzing too loudly for me to be able to concentrate. He lets me go, but I’m a mess. I know I’ll relive this moment over and over again later.
Around the front of the summit building there’s a tall white obelisk. It would look striking against the blue sky – I’ll have to come back in the daytime to photograph it. And then I see the view.
‘Wow!’ The city of Adelaide is lit up and sprawled out in front of us.
‘Check out the moon!’ Ben exclaims.
I turn around to see an enormous yellow disc rising above the dark hills in the east.
‘That’s incredible,’ I breathe as Ben straddles a bench seat. I nervously sit opposite him.
‘You can see it moving,’ he murmurs.
‘So you can,’ I marvel. ‘It’s beautiful. I’ve never seen one like that in England.’ I take out my camera and try to hold it steady as I click off a couple of shots. I know full well that I won’t be able to do this sight justice.
‘I love coming here at night,’ Ben says quietly, glancing left towards the city lights, sparkling in the heat haze.
‘Is it your second favourite place to go in the city?’ I remember that his favourite place is the lily pond in Adelaide’s Botanic Gardens.
‘It’s my first favourite place to go in the hills.’ He smiles at me in the darkness.
‘What, even better than the giant rocking horse?’ I attempt to sound mocking.
‘I think it even beats the Lobethal lights.’
‘Now you’re being ridiculous.’
He chuckles and brings his foot up onto the bench, wrapping his arms around his knee. ‘So you’re starting to like Australia.’ It almost isn’t a question, but I answer it anyway.
‘I am.’ Largely thanks to the present company, I manage to refrain from adding.
‘I’m happy for you.’
It seems like a slightly strange thing to say.
‘Do you reckon your mum is really into
‘Look at that one!’ I cry at the sight of a full-size Santa on a rooftop, equipped with sleigh and reindeer to boot.
‘Take a photo, then.’
‘Hold on, hold on.’ I wind down the window and hold the camera as steadily as I can so the shot doesn’t blur too much.
‘Pretty specky, hey?’ I assume he means spectacular.
‘I bloody love it!’
‘I told you we could do lights well here.’
‘Say no more on the matter.’ I wave my hand at him dramatically.
‘Speaking of lights, have you seen the view from Mount Lofty yet?’ he asks.
‘Mount Lofty, up the hill from where Michael lives?’
‘Yes. Up the hill from where you live.’
I laugh. ‘Yeah, yeah, okay, where I live. No, I haven’t seen the view from Mount Lofty yet.’
‘Right, then, that’s the next stop. Do you want to drive?’
‘Too bloody right I do.’
‘Now you’re starting to sound like an Aussie.’
It’s nine o’clock by the time we reach Mount Lofty summit. I carefully park the car and we climb out and walk towards the restaurant and gift shop. Ben leads me along the right-hand side of the building and turns back to point down the hill.
‘That’s Piccadilly Valley down there,’ he says. There’s a sign next to him and I skimread it to find that the name Piccadilly ‘probably’ came from the Aboriginal word Piccodla . Piccodla made up the eyebrows of Urebilla, the giant whose body formed the mountain ranges.
‘That’s interesting,’ I say. ‘And there’s me thinking it was named after Piccadilly in London.’
Ben chuckles. ‘It probably was. There’s a sign outside a church in Piccadilly saying a Mrs Emma Young named it after Piccadilly in London back in 1853.’
‘Oh. I think I prefer this explanation.’
‘It’s certainly more romantic. Can you see your house?’
I follow the line of his finger. ‘Which one is it?’
‘Here.’ He puts his arm around me to draw me closer. It’s a perfectly innocent gesture on his part, but it sets my insides on fire. ‘There,’ he says.
‘Oh, yeah,’ I reply, actually not seeing the house at all because my head is buzzing too loudly for me to be able to concentrate. He lets me go, but I’m a mess. I know I’ll relive this moment over and over again later.
Around the front of the summit building there’s a tall white obelisk. It would look striking against the blue sky – I’ll have to come back in the daytime to photograph it. And then I see the view.
‘Wow!’ The city of Adelaide is lit up and sprawled out in front of us.
‘Check out the moon!’ Ben exclaims.
I turn around to see an enormous yellow disc rising above the dark hills in the east.
‘That’s incredible,’ I breathe as Ben straddles a bench seat. I nervously sit opposite him.
‘You can see it moving,’ he murmurs.
‘So you can,’ I marvel. ‘It’s beautiful. I’ve never seen one like that in England.’ I take out my camera and try to hold it steady as I click off a couple of shots. I know full well that I won’t be able to do this sight justice.
‘I love coming here at night,’ Ben says quietly, glancing left towards the city lights, sparkling in the heat haze.
‘Is it your second favourite place to go in the city?’ I remember that his favourite place is the lily pond in Adelaide’s Botanic Gardens.
‘It’s my first favourite place to go in the hills.’ He smiles at me in the darkness.
‘What, even better than the giant rocking horse?’ I attempt to sound mocking.
‘I think it even beats the Lobethal lights.’
‘Now you’re being ridiculous.’
He chuckles and brings his foot up onto the bench, wrapping his arms around his knee. ‘So you’re starting to like Australia.’ It almost isn’t a question, but I answer it anyway.
‘I am.’ Largely thanks to the present company, I manage to refrain from adding.
‘I’m happy for you.’
It seems like a slightly strange thing to say.
‘Do you reckon your mum is really into
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